|
 It
started out as a normal fishing trip with Lee, Matthew, my 9
year old son, and myself. It was Tuesday, July 31, 2001. We
all were walking on the fishing pier in Naples Florida at
8:00 pm and saw that the gulf was smooth as a mirror.
Matthew said to me, “Hey Dad, let’s go out on the boat.” I
looked at Lee, we smiled, and without a word we both knew
what that meant. I said, “Let’s go!” We went back to my
truck and headed home. In no time we had my Cobia 194 packed
and hooked to the truck. We were off and running.
As I backed down the Naples
city boat ramp, all was going great. Lee disconnected the
boat from the trailer and handed the bow rope to my favorite
first mate, Matthew. The boat was in the water and our
smiles showed our excitement. I pulled the trailer up the
ramp and went to park. As I was walking across the parking
lot back toward the boat, I saw a few clouds and some high
lightning in the east sky. I shook my head and said to
myself, “Oh boy, here we go.” After finishing my safety
checks and warming up the motor, we were off. Idling through
the backwaters toward Gordon’s Pass, the rain started to
lightly fall. Lee commented, “Here we go, Gilligan’s
Island.” I laughed and started to sing the theme song as we
continued on.
We headed out of Gordon’s Pass
into the gulf. The rain stopped and the channel was smooth.
I told Lee and Matthew we were going to the 2-mile reef and
stay there all night. All were in agreement and we were
anxious to get our lines and hooks wet. I turned on my GPS,
a Garmin 12XL, and programmed it to the 2-mile reef. It was
going to be a short trip, just 3.5 miles north of the pass
and 2 miles off shore. On the way, I looked at my watch and
noticed it was only 10:00pm. Perfect, I thought. The weather
is good and this is going to be a long night of great
fishing.
We arrived within 6 minutes
and anchored off. Lines immediately went into the water in
the hopes of catching some small baitfish in a hurry. This
didn’t happen but no one was disappointed. Just being out
here was good enough for us. Matthew was getting tired so I
got him a blanket and pillow and he laid on the floor at the
bow. Lee and I then caught a few small fish and hooked them
on our big rods. Clickers were set and we waited.
At 1:00am there were no big
fish in the boat. I looked at Lee and said, “Want to go to
the R-Tower?” He just smiled and I knew that was a yes. I
turned on my VHF radio to check the weather. We listened
closely and heard that it was going to be nice all night and
in the morning. Later in the evening the seas were going to
be 4 to 6 feet off shore with 30mph winds late in the day. I
asked Lee if he wanted to go out now and come back in before
noon so we can beat the bad weather with plenty of time to
spare. Again he smiled. “Let’s go then.” I said.
Lee went to the bow and told
Matthew to lie on the center consol seat and he pulled up
the anchor as I programmed the GPS to the R-Tower. It read,
29.5 miles due west. We started off and the moonlight
seemed to be lighting our way. The seas began to pick up as
we headed off shore but only to 1-2 feet. At 35mph my
estimated time of arrival (ETA) was showing only 56 minutes
to go. I wasn’t worried because we had made this trip
numerous times both during the day and at night. All seemed
to be routine. About 20 miles into the trip, I remember
looking back toward the shore. I could no longer see the
buildings but I could see the sky being lit by the city
lights. Routine I thought, but something just didn’t feel
right this time. The seas were now 2-3 feet but we were
getting closer to out destination. I have to say that the
excitement of catching some big fish off shore like we
always did kept me headed toward the R-Tower. Looking at my
GPS and seeing only 1 mile to arrival kept me rolling
through the now 3-5 foot seas. Lee stood beside me and
turned on the spotlight to get a visual of the upcoming
R-Tower. There it was! Time to get fishing and get “On
Huge”.
We slowly approached and Lee
hooked the bow rope onto a corner post of the tower. The
boat was rocking and rolling a bit but we all have been out
in 4-6 foot seas before. Besides, we were here to fish! Lee
and I put our big boat rods out and set the clickers while
Matthew laid quietly sleeping. 3:30am rolled around and no
sound from the clickers. Lee laid down on the floor to rest
while I sat up watching the waves push the boat up and down.
The seas seemed to be getting bigger but I kept thinking
about the weather report saying it was going to be nice all
night. I kept my eyes on the water, catching crabs as the
floated by. All I could think about was getting enough crabs
so we could hook onto some big permit at first light. Around
4:30am I had a live well full of crabs and decided to lie
down across the seats to rest my eyes. Maybe hoping things
would calm down if I didn’t watch. Getting tossed around a
little harder than normal, I woke up from a half sleep. My
watch read 6:30am. My first thought was that the sun would
be up soon and the permit fishing can begin. As I sat up and
looked around, I saw the waves that woke me were now 6-8
feet. I saw a storm off in the distance to the east that
looked to be about 20 miles away. Immediately I got very
concerned. I yelled for Lee to wake up and told him we
needed to get out of here right now! He rose to his feet and
looked around. Our eyes met and without a word we both knew
it was time to go. I reeled in the poles as Lee went to the
bow to disconnect the rope from the tower. As he pulled the
boat closer I could see that this wasn’t going to be a good
idea. I told him to leave the rope on the tower and unhook
the rope from the boat. Saving the rope was not as important
as keeping us from getting slammed into the tower.
The waves immediately separated
our distance from the tower and I set my GPS to Gordon’s
Pass. No sooner then I got the boat headed in the correct
direction, the storm that was 20 miles away was upon us now!
The seas turned quickly into 10-12 feet and the wind was
pushing hard against us at around 40mph plus. Looking at my
current speed of only 3-4 mph, I turned to my GPS and felt
my heart sink as I saw our ETA was 4 hours and 46 minutes.
My first thought was for the safety of my son who was
sleeping with his lifejacket on. I told Lee to wake him up
and tell him to come back here with me. I then told Lee to
get us both lifejackets out of the floor storage. As he
handed me a lifejacket, I said, “We have over 4 hours of
this.” No words needed to be spoken. Our stare said it all.
We were more than likely not going to make it through this
without ending up in the water.
With one hand on the throttle
controlling our slow speed over the huge waves and the other
gripped tightly on the steering wheel, my heart was sinking
lower and lower. What is going to happen to us? I looked
behind me to check on Matthew and was happy to see him
apparently sleeping across the seats. I believed he sensed
the trouble we were in so he kept his head down and his eyes
closed. I wished I could have done the same. He has always
trusted me to protect him from harm so here was my test.
The storm was getting worse and
the seas were now at 15-20 feet. The wind was stronger and
blowing the white caps off the top of the waves. I knew now
that we were definitely in a serious situation. I looked at
my GPS only to feel the disappointment of seeing our
destination to be a long 28 miles away. I then looked at my
watch. It had been 1 hour and 30 minutes since we left the
tower. I thought to myself, three miles in one and a half
hours. This was not good at all! I watched Lee occasionally
look back at the tower. It still being in sight after all
this time caused him to give me stares of serious concern.
Two hours into our trip, my GPS
read 22 miles to go and the seas were not getting better.
Without any command, Lee moved to the bow and sat on the
center consol seat to keep some weight up front. Every wave
had us vertical and the thought of rolling over backwards
was caught between our short deep stares. Many terrible
scenarios began running through my head. This was no time
to panic. All thoughts needed to be focused on the
situation. This was the time I started talking to God. I
remember asking Him just to calm the seas down a little and
I would do the rest. I reminded Him that my job was to take
people out and bring them back safely. I have a lot of
experience on the water but this was going to be the biggest
test I have ever encountered. Just then, I saw Lee stand up
and point to the horizon in front of us. He turned his head
toward me to see if I saw it. I saw it all right! A huge
wave was building and coming straight toward us. I won’t
ever forget what our eyes said to each other at that moment.
This is going to be the one that puts us in the water. I
backed off on the throttle, waited, and watched as this 25
foot wave pushed it’s way toward us. Lee quickly but
carefully walked back to stand next to me. We looked ahead
and back at each other about 5 times until it time to tackle
this one. The wave pushed us back as we went vertical up the
face. I gave a little throttle to push us over the top. High
on the top, I was delighted not to be rolled over until we
began to fall sideways down the backside. It was all I could
do to keep the bow facing the next big one I saw behind it.
What seemed to take forever only lasted a few minutes as
that one 25 footer turned out to be six of them back to
back. As we fell down the back of the last big wave, Lee and
I both looked back at what had just passed us. It was a huge
wall of water moving away from us at an incredible speed. We
looked at each other and smiled. The smiles turned into a
short laugh as to say to each other, I don’t believe we made
it.
Standing there beside me, I
turned to Lee and spoke the first words in over 2 hours. I
said, “Lee, we need to call the Coast Guard.” His simple
reply was, “Yes.” Trying to control the steering with one
hand and the throttle with the other through the 15-20 foot
seas, I managed to work the radio mike.
U.S Coast
Guard…this is a boat needing assistance.
There was no reply and Lee and I
looked at each other. Just as this hopeless feeling came us
across us we heard.
(Transcribed
from the Coast Guard recorded audio communications, the
radio conversation went like this.)
Vessel
hailing Coast Guard, Coast Guard station Fort Myers.
Lee and I then looked at each
other and smiled. The fact that someone knew we were out
here in trouble eased the fear somewhat. With a sheer sense
of relief I replied, “US Coast Guard…Yeah…this is….I’m in a
20 footer and I’m having a heck of a time getting in and I’m
about 20 miles from Gordon’s Pass.”
Vessel
hailing Coast Guard, Coast Guard station Fort Myers…. state
your problem and position please.
The
problem is I’m in a 20 foot boat and in 20 foot waves. I
don’t think I’m going to make it in.
Vessel
hailing Coast Guard, Coast Guard station Fort Myers… what is
your GPS coordinates?
Stand-by…
25 50 818 north… 82 02 148 west.
Vessel hailing Coast Guard,
Coast Guard station Fort Myers… request to know how many
people you have on board.
Two
adults and one child.
Vessel
hailing Coast Guard, Coast Guard station Fort Myers… repeat
the last.
Could you
repeat?
Vessel hailing Coast Guard,
Coast Guard stations Fort Myers… request to know how many
people you have on board.
I have
three people on board… three!
Vessel
hailing Coast Guard, Coast Guard station Fort Myers… request
to know the problem... over.
The problem is I’m in a 20 foot
boat in 15 to 20 foot seas and I don’t think I’m going to
have enough gas to make it in.
There was a long pause and I
continued to fight the high winds and high seas just waiting
to hear the next words from the radio.
US Coast
Guard… did you copy that?
Vessel
hailing Coast Guard, Coast Guard station Fort Myers…
stand-by.
Vessel
hailing Coast Guard, Coast Guard station Fort Myers…
Go ahead.
Request
to know if one of the persons on board is a child?
Yes sir,
he’s nine years old.
Vessel hailing Coast Guard,
Coast Guard station Fort Myers… request you set anchor and
request to know if there are any medical conditions?
Lee and I
just looked at each other and both shook our heads to say no
way!
There are
no medical conditions but if we throw anchor we are going to
get swamped!
There was
another long pause. Lee and I just looked at each other
wondering what we were expected to do next.
Vessel hailing Coast Guard,
Coast Guard station Fort Myers… request to know your
latitude and longitude position again… over.
I said,
north 25 50 8, when our transmission was interrupted by
another boater needing gas.
Vessel
hailing Coast Guard, Coast Guard station Fort Myers… request
you put your lifejackets on… over.
We’ve had
them on!
I was aware there were
procedures to follow but having to fight these high seas and
talk on the radio, I guess I was looking for some advise
that would ease my fear. I thought to myself, please tell me
something I don’t know or something I could do to better my
chances of making it into shore because things were not
looking or feeling to good out here. Just then I heard a new
voice come across the radio.
Vessel
needing assistance… this is the Coast Guard… do you copy?
Yes I do!
Now I was talking to a female,
which seemed to ease my fear somewhat because I felt she
would have a deeper level of compassion and feeling for what
I was going through. The fact that my child was on board was
a concern for both of us.
Vessel
needing assistance, switch to channel 22.
Switching
to channel 22.
(Continuing
without the audio communication transcription)
After going through all our
checks detailing names, ages of passengers, number of flares
and other safety equipment, I gave my GPS position to the
Coast Guard again. The response that they knew we were out
here and was tracking our position eased my fear a little
more. The female on the radio was a comfort and she said she
would call me every 15 minutes to record our position. She
told me that if anything changed for the worst to call her
immediately. Also, if I didn’t respond to her call she would
send someone out to get us.
Still watching my GPS slowly
tick off the miles, I wondered if we were going to make it
in okay. My mind went back to all the scenarios and what we
would do if we ended up in the water. Again this was my time
to talk to God. I asked Him again to calm the seas down. To
keep my mind off the scenarios, I began saying Hail Mary
after Hail Mary. After about 500 of them I switched to the
Lord’s Prayer. This kept my mind busy and focused. When it
was getting close to the 15-minute mark, I kept looking at
the radio anticipating that comforting voice.
Then I heard it and smiled.
Every time she would ask me, “How are you doing Skipper?” My
reply was, “Okay I guess.” Every time, she assured me I was
doing well and she let me know that they still had me
located. She asked me for my new GPS coordinates, how my
fuel level was, and asked what the weather conditions were
like. This lasted for over a hour and each 15 minute call
was a blessing. She assured there was a Coast Guard cutter
in Fort Myers standing by to come out and get us if we
needed them. I was also informed that it would take over 2
hours to get to us. I told her not to send anyone out here
in these conditions and if I kept making headway like I was
then we should be okay. I added, just the fact that someone
knew we were out here and that we were making progress
toward the shore made me feel better than I did 2 hours ago.
I was determined to make it in now and our tracking was
heading us south of Gordon’s Pass. She asked me what my plan
was. I told her I had to change my tracking more southeast
due to the waves and wind and would more than likely end up
south of Marco Island. I would then go into Marco Pass. She
assured me that was a great plan and that I was doing great.
Up until 11 miles from shore
things were about the same. Inside 11 miles, the seas were
dropping to 10-12 feet. I could now see the tall buildings
on Marco Island and a lot of my fear eased even more. At
another 15 minute call, I was happy to answer her request
for the usual information. The weather conditions were
better, the seas were now 8-10 feet, and my fuel was good.
How do
you feel Skipper?
Laughing,
I said, “I would much rather see these 8 to 10’s then the 15
to 20 footers from before.”
She laughed and responded,
“Yeah, I bet.” Again she told me I was doing great and asked
if I was aware that another storm is moving directly toward
Marco Island and in my direction?
I
replied, No I wasn’t.
Did you
check the weather Skipper?
Yes, but
the weather wasn’t supposed to get bad until late in the
evening.
Your
right, but it came early.
When is
it supposed to hit?
In about
one hour from now, she said.
Well me
GPS says I have about one hour until I make it to shore so
it looks like I am going to run right into it.
How do
you feel about that Skipper?
Is okay as long as it doesn’t
get as bad as it was and the fact that I am closer to shore
and can see the land makes it okay I guess.
I copy
that Skipper. Your doing great!
Thanks! I
said. I guess I’ll talk to you in another 15 minutes.
I copy
that Skipper.
By now the seas were tolerable,
only 4-6 feet and we were about 5 miles from shore. I was
about 6 miles south of Marco Island so I turned my tracking
toward Marco Pass. Our speed now was about 15mph and we were
making good time. The miles clicked off quickly and the
closeness of the land was a relief. Lee and I began talking
about what we had just experienced. Matthew sat up for the
first time in over 4 hours. When I came upon the Marco Pass
channel marker, I received my last radio communication from
the Coast Guard. I told her I was headed into the pass and
we all were okay. I informed her that we were going to take
the backwaters all the way to the Naples city boat ramp. She
replied, “You did a good job Skipper.” My last transmission
to her was, “Thank you so much for being there.” Her last
reply was, “Your welcome.”
Finishing this fearful adventure
was lighted as we made our way through the glass calm waters
of the pass. Matthew stood up and was looking around. He saw
some fish crashing bait on the surface and said, “Hey Dad,
can we stop and fish!” Without rehearsal, Lee and I said,
“No, we need to get to land.” We all laughed and headed down
the pass and was met by a crew from the Coast Guard. We
stopped and they boarded our boat. Their first comment was,
“We didn’t expect to see you.” I replied, “I didn’t expect
to be seen. I have a good boat here.” One crewmember said,
“You not only have a good boat (tapping his hand on the
hull) but you have some good seamanship skills. You did a
great job getting in.” After some standard checks of our
boat and some small talk, we said good-by and I thanked them
again.
Cold and wet, tired both
physically and mentally, and my hands swollen and severely
bruised from the 4-½ hour death grip of the steering wheel
and throttle, we made it to the comforting sight of the boat
ramp.
I was compelled to write down
this adventure for a few reasons. I wanted to thank the
makers of such a wonderful seaworthy boat and motor, Cobia,
a Yamaha Boat Company. I wanted to thank Garmin for having
such a reliable and life saving GPS. I wanted to enlighten
all fishermen and boaters how important it is to not to take
chances with Mother Nature. The weather can turn faster than
you may expect. Most importantly, I wanted to thank the
wonderful female person from the U.S. Coast Guard (who’s
name I don’t know) who on that day helped me with her
encouragement and professionalism to prevent a potentially
disastrous situation.
Thank you
and may God bless all of you!
Ironically enough, the storm just happened to be named
tropical storm Barry…. Go figure! |
